Rescued by a Rancher

by Mindy Neff

  “Censorship gets my juices flowing. Might even have to make that part of my campaign. Now, let’s see here.” Jerald drummed his fingers on the bed-sheet. “We’ve covered the graveyard. Runnin’ into trouble with veins and needles. Dehydration. Dying. What else aren’t we supposed to talk about in a hospital room?”

  “Blood’s probably not a good idea,” Linc said helpfully, his expression once again bland.

  Tracy Lynn bumped him with her shoulder. “Cut it out, funny guy—Oh, damn.” A bubble of laughter escaped her throat, and she pressed a palm to her forehead. “This is morbid. And sick. And you’re both idiots.” Nerves boiled in her empty stomach. “I’m going to do something productive, like pace.”

  Deliberately ignoring them, she strode to the window, hugging her arms around her ribs as she looked out over the hospital’s manicured landscape scattered with oaks and a naked magnolia tree.

  “I don’t imagine major bypass surgery is going to be any picnic,” Linc said. She could see his reflection in the window as he sat down in the chair beside her father’s bed. “You ready for it?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve been wondering what kind of power tools those old boys use in the operating room to saw open a rib cage.”

  “Probably just a plain ol’ circular saw. Let’s hope your doctor has a steady hand.”

  Tracy Lynn’s jaw dropped.

  “You can bet I’m going to check him out before they gas me,” Jerald said.

  She turned, leaned against the windowsill and watched the two men in her life converse as though there’d never been an unspoken social line drawn between them.

  Her head wasn’t so far in the clouds that she didn’t recognize the intangible thread of tension between her father and Linc. There had to be unresolved history eating at both of them. Even though her father had given every indication he would have resorted to a true shotgun wedding if pushed, she had no idea how he truly felt about Linc as a son-in-law.

  And how could Linc, after being on the receiving end of her father’s scorn during his youth, sit here so casually and joke with the man who’d at one time judged him and found him lacking?

  I’ve got a bank account that ensures no one closes a door on me.

  That one statement said a lot.

  He was a grown man now, well respected and enormously successful. Yet he still carried deep wounds.

  Linc glanced over and caught her staring. The heat of a blush bloomed on her cheeks. She fought the urge to duck her head, to pretend that she hadn’t been looking, that her eyes had just happened to skim in his direction at the same time he chose to look her way. An accident, nothing more.

  But the way his eyes had softened just now as he’d gazed at her…

  Oh, for pity’s sake. Impatiently she pushed away from the windowsill and resumed pacing.

  My gosh, she was losing it. Big time. Just because he’d saved her father’s life, laid false claim to the child in her womb, then rocked the very foundation of her world by making love to her with an earth-shattering intensity guaranteed to ruin her for any other man, there was no call to be assigning fanciful meanings to this tough guy’s expressions.

  Tough guy. An apt description. But he was also gentle. And in the midst of mind-numbing fear over her father’s health, there shouldn’t be a single, valid reason she was reacting to Lincoln Slade as though someone had doused them in irresistible pheromones.

  Other than the fact that they were now married.

  “Seems to me,” Linc said to Jerald, “they could just run you through a table saw and get a much more precise cut than wrestling with a handheld power tool.”

  “Boy, that’d gut me like a catfish. They’d have to saw one end of me clean in two to get to where they’re going, and both those ends of me have a willful head that’d strenuously object.”

  Linc grinned, leaned back in the chair with his ankle resting on the opposite knee. “You wouldn’t have to give up the family jewels. The doc could rig up something similar to those light fixtures dentists use. Just swing the arm down, let her rip, and there you go.”

  Tracy Lynn shuddered at their morbid humor.

  Ellie approached them, holding a chart. “Time to take a ride. How is everyone this morning?” she asked. “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I hope?”

  “My eyes and tail are feeling a little pea green after listening to these two re-create the chain-saw massacre,” Tracy Lynn complained.

  Linc stood and moved next to her, his gray-blue eyes searching hers. “Are you feeling sick?” he asked quietly, his gaze dipping almost imperceptibly to her stomach.

  She wanted to lay her cheek against his chest and hug him for remembering. For caring. “Not that kind of sick,” she answered just as quietly.

  They stepped back as Ellie and a male nurse hooked the IV pole to the hospital bed, laid her father’s health chart next to him, then released the brake on the rolling bed and wheeled him out of the CCU toward the elevators.

  Tracy Lynn walked beside him and held his hand. “Can we all fit in the elevator?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Ellie said as they filed through the steel doors and crowded around the bed. “Linc, would you push the first-floor button, please?”

  The nurse turned back to Tracy Lynn. “Y’all can wait in the main lobby. I’ll let Dr. Bruley know you’re there, and he’ll come out and talk to you when he’s finished with your dad’s surgery. Most of the time he makes it to the patient’s room to discuss any concerns the family has beforehand, but he’s running a bit behind schedule this morn—“

  “In case anybody cares,” Jerald interrupted, “while they’re talking about me as if I’m not here, I happen to be wide awake—or bright-eyed, I believe was the term. And last time I checked I had a sound mind and excellent hearing.”

  Ellie patted his shoulder. “Of course you do, handsome.”

  “Although I can’t claim that certain parts of me are quite so bushy anymore,” he grumbled, shifting his head back to frown at the nurse. “Some blond-haired maniac took a razor to my chest and shaved it bald.”

  “And I dulled two razors in the process,” Ellie said with a grin.

  “Chin up, Daddy. We’ll just tell everyone you’re in training for the Olympic swim team.” The elevator dinged its arrival at the first floor. Linc held the doors open while they exited in reverse order.

  “That would require a whole lot more shaving,” Ellie quipped as she pushed the gurney through the hallway.

  “Just because a man’s buck naked under these pneumonia gowns, that’s no excuse to be taking unfair advantage and broadcasting his secrets.”

  “I was talking about your legs, Mayor. Whatever are you referring to?”

  Tracy Lynn laughed at Ellie’s false Southern innocence, and Linc exchanged a look of male commiseration with Jerald.

  “I hope you all know I have orders to keep my blood pressure down. And—“

  “Mayor Randolph!” Betty Jo Gridelle, one of the clerks at the post office, rushed over. “Why, I thought that was you. I’m just here to pay a call on Connie Nance. She slipped in the tub and wrenched her back. Nasty business. You know how those back injuries can just pain you something fierce. Dru Taggat over at the seniors’ center has got herself all het up thinking Connie’s going to claim she hurt herself in aerobics class and sue. I keep telling Dru that’s not going to happen. I was lucky enough to stop by at the right moment—and there was Connie, naked as the day she was born. Thankfully, I got her covered up all proper before the fireman got there—“

  “You give Miz Nance our best,” Linc interrupted smoothly, patting Betty Jo on the shoulder. “And be sure and tell her the mayor said ‘hey.’”

  “Oh, she’ll be thrilled. Good luck, Mayor Randolph.”

  Jerald gave a stiff nod and briefly lifted the hand not attached to the IV. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Is it necessary to parade me through the common areas for all and sundry to gawk at?”

  “But, Daddy, you look so
fine in your blue paper hat.”

  “Your mother spoiled you entirely too much,” he said to Tracy Lynn, then looked at Linc. “Much obliged for running interference.”

  “End of the line, kids,” Ellie said, hitting the button on the wall for the automatic doors.

  Tracy Lynn leaned over and kissed her father. “I love you, Daddy. We’ll see you in a little while.”

  She felt Linc’s hands cup her shoulders and she leaned back against his chest, watching until the electronic doors closed off her view.

  “He’ll be fine,” Linc said.

  “I’m not sure it was right that we were all joking around when this is so serious.”

  “Babe. Who wants a bunch of anxious hand-wringers hovering to remind a patient what he’s facing? Best thing is to keep his mind off his health fears. Why do you think Ellie flirts the way she does?”

  “You’re right.” She fell into step with him when he guided her toward the waiting room.

  “Where are your Sweetheart pals?” he asked.

  “I didn’t tell them what time the surgery was scheduled.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged and sank down on an overstuffed, cactus-green love seat that faced the elevators so she’d spot the doctor when he came out. She didn’t want a re-creation of the day her mother had died, when practically everyone she knew and loved had camped out in the waiting room. She knew it was irrational, but she thought that if she treated her daddy’s surgery as no big deal, didn’t have to look at a bunch of worried faces that reflected her own fears, everything would turn out fine. “It’ll just be easier to call everyone when the surgery’s over.”

  Linc sat next to her. “The girls are not going to be happy with you.”

  “They’ll be okay.” Although she didn’t want a crowd, she was glad that Linc was here. Her dad had actually perked up when Linc had brought up the difficulty of the surgery, not shying away from the seriousness as Tracy Lynn had been trying to do. Even Ellie’s teasing had brought a spark of color to her father’s face.

  “I’m not so sure all of Ellie’s flirting is strictly in the line of duty.”

  “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Does that bother you?”

  “No. Mama’s been gone for ten years. I’m kind of surprised Daddy hasn’t dated anyone.”

  “Could be because he has you to take care of him. He doesn’t need anyone else.”

  She frowned. “I don’t take care of him. I mean, I organize parties and act as hostess, things like that.”

  “But you still live with him.”

  The statement sounded more like an accusation. “Not anymore. Did you forget so soon?” She was acutely aware of his thigh pressed against hers, but she wasn’t going to be the first one to move.

  “I didn’t forget. Do you want me to rephrase?”

  Something in his tone rubbed her the wrong way. “Oh, I think I can keep up,” she drawled sweetly. “There are actually a few brain cells under this blond hair.” She scooted to the edge of the sofa cushion, twisted to look at him. “This is the second time you’ve brought up this subject. Why does it bug you so much that I live at home?”

  “Did live. And it’s none of my business, but since you asked, I think your father takes advantage of you.”

  “He does not! Where would you get a lame idea like that?”

  “From the way he treated you on the courthouse steps, for one. And from the way he guilted you into getting married, for another.”

  Defensive, conscious that they weren’t the only people in the waiting room, she kept her voice at a peeved whisper. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I could have sworn it was you who kicked over the hornet’s nest in the ‘whose baby is this?’ fiasco. And I seem to recall that it was you who lobbied so aggressively in favor of my father’s demands.”

  “If you’ll stop a minute and think back, in both those cases I did what was best for the situation. Someone had to make a decision and act. I might have been a little fast out of the gate in regards to the baby announcement, but I rectified that with the marriage. I don’t know why you’re still climbing all over me about this. It was your father who acted as though he was ashamed.”

  “I can’t believe you’re attacking my father when he’s on an operating table and could die. And at least he was honest about his feelings and didn’t hide out in the barn like some people I know.” She shot up off the couch and walked away, not sure where she was going.

  She hadn’t meant to blurt out that last part.

  Arguing with Linc was like butting her head against a brick wall. Her emotions were so close to the surface she thought she’d explode. And creeping around like strangers in his cavernous house only increased her edginess.

  She wasn’t sure where her strength had gone, but she was having a great deal of trouble finding the stuffing that usually kept her together.

  Maybe some of what Linc said was true. She’d had similar thoughts over the years, bouts of resentment over some of her father’s demands, but she’d buried her resentment in denial, told herself there was nothing wrong with respecting a parent, wanting to please him.

  Good Lord, she’d even thought about leaving town so her pregnancy wouldn’t embarrass her father.

  Needing to get away from Linc, but afraid to wander too far in case she missed the doctor, she walked out of the waiting room and found a private alcove near the elevators. She sat on the floor, her back to the wall, and rested her forehead on her bent knees.

  She didn’t bother to look up when she felt the warmth of a body easing down next to her. She knew it was Linc. She recognized his scent, the hint of sandalwood and musk that lingered from his after-shave.

  He bumped her leg with his, reminding her of grade school, when boys and girls gave each other a light shove or punch on the arm to show affection or to make up.

  “Why are we fighting?” she asked, her voice muffled against her knees. “I can’t even remember the point.”

  “The point is, I’m an ass, and my sense of timing sucks.”

  She lifted her head. “Don’t wait for me to contradict you. I’ve got no argument with that statement.”

  He shook his head. “You never skirt an issue, do you? You’re so open and honest, you just tell it like it is.”

  “Except when I’m with my father.”

  “That was my lie, not yours.”

  She’d never thought much about the aspect of her personality Linc was referring to—her tendency to say what was on her mind. She just expected people to accept her as she was, and had found it was a lot easier to be honest, to let people know exactly where she stood.

  With Linc, that wasn’t wholly the case. She was holding something back. A very big something.

  Because despite the fact that he made her mad enough to spit nails, despite the fact that their lives had traveled such different paths, deep in her bones she believed he was her soul mate.

  Chapter Eight

  The lights were on in the barn when Tracy Lynn got back to Linc’s house. After the doctor had emerged from the operating room to report that the surgery was a success, Linc returned to the ranch, but Tracy Lynn had stayed the rest of the day, doing the very thing her father hated—hovering and watching him sleep.

  Truthfully, she felt as though she’d been squeezed through an old-fashioned wringer, then dumped on the floor in a heap. She ought to go straight to bed, but she was too keyed up to settle down.

  She put away the food she’d brought home, then found a pad of paper and a measuring tape, and began to sketch out the size and shape of the great room. It was a huge area, combining the kitchen, informal dining and family room, with vaulted ceilings and tall windows that created an illusion of bringing the outdoors inside. She could visualize a blend of antiques and traditional furniture—neutral colors, she decided, accented with subtle shades of red.

  The back door opened just as she was checking the distance from the ceiling to the top of the window.

  “Babe.�
� Linc scowled and crossed the room, with Buck trailing behind. “You shouldn’t be climbing on step stools.” She barely had a chance to note the inch mark on the tape before he reached for her.

  Her heart danced in her chest, both from being unceremoniously plucked off her perch and from the feel of Linc’s hands lingering at her waist. He was all cowboy, from his hat to his boots, and just looking at him robbed her of speech, made her feel like a young girl with a major crush on a pop star.

  He stepped back. “What are you doing?”

  “Um, I was measuring for furniture and drapes.”

  “That can wait. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

  “Well, you have very few plates, and even less furniture.”

  “I’ve got chairs, a table and a bed. That’ll do for now. How’s your dad?”

  Spoken like a man, she thought. She reached down and scratched Buck’s ears. “In pain. Groggy. Probably won’t even remember I was there. But the doctor says he’s doing okay.”

  Linc shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did Sunny make it to the hospital?”

  “Yes, and so did Donetta and Becca Sue…before I had a chance to call them.”

  He shrugged. “So, I saved you a phone call—or three.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. And you were right, they weren’t happy that I hadn’t asked them to wait through the surgery with me. I just couldn’t, though. I know it sounds stupid, but I was scared it would be like Mama all over again—that having a crowd gathered might jinx the procedure.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t around back then. You might have had some trouble tossing me out today. You must be beat.”

  It took a moment for her to switch from the image of him not budging from the hospital to his comment about her energy level. “Actually, I’m wired and I haven’t had a drop of coffee. Here.” She held out the end of the tape measure. “Make yourself useful and hold this.”

  “You’re not getting back up on that stool.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And you called me a worrier?” She walked toward the archway, the tape reeling out as Linc held it steady. “Okay. You can let go now.” When the tape recoiled, Buck thought this was the start of a new game and gave chase until Linc called him back.